


Look Back At Me

by elizabeth_darcy



Category: North and South (UK TV), North and South - Ambiguous Fandom, North and South - Elizabeth Gaskell, North and South - Elizabeth Gaskell | UK TV
Genre: Alternate Ending, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, an au in which, margaret looks back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-06 02:32:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15876651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizabeth_darcy/pseuds/elizabeth_darcy
Summary: “Look back,” he pleads to himself, “Look back at me.”And, as if like magic, Margaret’s head turns back just enough for her to catch a glance of the man she just left behind- surprised to find that he still stands in the same spot, watching her go.An alternate ending where Margaret looks back.





	Look Back At Me

 

“Look back,” he pleads to himself, “Look back at me.”

He waits, knowing he shouldn’t. He’s equal parts hope and despair and longing and pain and love.

And part of him wishes she’d look back- even just for a moment- but he knows, as she has taught him time and time again, such an idea is a fantasy.

“ _Please_ ,” he whispers.

And, as if like magic, Margaret’s head turns back just enough for her to catch a glance of the man she just left behind- surprised to find that he still stands in the same spot, watching her go.

John’s a mess of worries and contradictions about the meaning of it, but his heart swells enough for him to forget all that and simply enjoy the way her beautiful eyes strike his.

He watches as her lips mutter something he can’t hear, and his heart sinks as she turns back around to repeat herself, leaving him behind.

_That’s it, then,_ he thinks to himself.

But then the carriage stops. And so does his heart.

He isn’t sure whether to run to her as she quickly steps back out of the carriage, or if he should stay put and wait for her to come to him, but it doesn’t matter anyway because he’s already halfway to her before he realizes he’s even taken a single step.

“Mr. Thornton,” she's saying, breathlessly and just as alarmed at her own actions as he is.

“Miss Hale, why-“

“I’m so sorry, I’m so terribly sorry about all of this and how I haven’t been so... and how you think... I...”

She looks around for a moment, ensuring that no one is near enough to hear her as she whispers to him with as much care and urgencey and fear as the sentiment holds, “ _He was my brother_.”

He doesn’t understand. “But you don’t have a-“

She hushes him before he can repeat the secretive word, “I do. Yes, I do. And I cannot... I cannot explain to you everything, but you must believe me. He... no one could know that he was here, no one, as it's too dangerous for him to... and so I could never tell you why... But that’s why he was... and why, when I went to the... and when you had seen-” Too many things she wants to say to him-  _needs_  to say- are appearing in her brain at once, and nothing she’s saying is coherent, but he seems to understand somehow anyway, because he begins shaking his head with a smile.

“A brother,” he repeats, incredulously.

“I wanted to tell you,” she explains, trying not to grow distracted by the way that smile of his makes butterflies tingle in her stomach, “I wanted to tell you so much, but you must believe I couldn’t. I tried to make it known, but you wouldn’t believe me- and I understand why, but...” she trails off, “I just- I needed you to know, before I left. I needed you to not think me entirely too awful...”

“And why’s that?” He finds himself asking, though he isn’t sure when he thought of that question nor whether or not he really wants to know the answer.

“I... I just... cannot stand misunderstandings," she fumbles to explain. "Nor my acquaintances having poor opinions of my character,” she answers, attempting to convince herself.

He shakes his head slightly, “No, I don’t believe that.”

It’s suddenly much harder for her to breathe, because his eyes are piercing right through hers like he can see every thought in her head, and it terrifies her.

“Please, don’t,” she looks away, “You know well enough why. Don’t make me say it when it is not possible.”

“What’s not possible?”

She looks away, unable to face him anymore. Her eyes catch his hands, and her heart grows sad, thinking of the times she used to revile him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t shake your hand that day,” she tells him. She knows she’s apologized for it already, but for some reason it feels very important to tell him again right now.

He raises his hand to take hers gently- as if he’s holding a butterfly that might fly away or break beneath his hands in an instant- and lifts them up to remain between the two of them.

She believes he’s making for a handshake, and begins moving her own hand into the proper position, but he stops her with the tips of his fingers, slowly turning the angle of their wrists until their fingers lace together.

She’s utterly lost, her unsure eyes locking on the two hands before flickering up to meet his confident eyes.

“Margaret,” he says, like her name is a song he’s been wanting to sing for his entire life, “Perhaps I’m misunderstanding all of this,” he shakes his head, “but, if I am not, and if you will let me,” he squeezes her hand in his ever so slightly, “I should very much like to discuss the color of fruit with you once again.”

There are tears wetting her eyes, and she gives him a watery smile of happiness as she nods, “I believe,” she swallows, “I believe I would like that very much."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I wrote this within like an hour because I haven't found a sufficient amount of AUs where she looks back, and I figured I'd share it with anyone else who might want to experience this ending instead.  
> <3  
> PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT IF YOU ENJOYED!! :D


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